Why I like being a Domme

Just Reflecting (and some things that turn me on)

Due to what turned me on as a submissive and the kind of submissive I ached to be in my day-to-day led me to believe I would not enjoy being a Dominant. I was so sure submission was my place. At first I used my submission to play the Dominant, not be the Dominant. I wanted a Master to serve and a collar around my neck.

But then I did… stuff.

I did some mean stuff. I had massages when I wanted them. I had him dry me off after a shower. I used him sexually. I spanked him.

And, as it turned out, I really enjoyed myself and so did my vagina.

One night, I found myself dressed in nothing but heels and a strap-on, bending him over the bed and fucking his ass. I assumed I would like it, but it ended up being more than a like. I was literally dripping down my legs. I remember thinking, “What the hell is going on down there?” I also remember thinking it would be better (for me) if he enjoyed it a little less.

So, yeah…

I don’t want to be submissive anymore, but I am glad I was one.

It is interesting, the ideas I have about the way D/s works have stayed the same. And the same things turn me on, just in a different way. It also shaped some beliefs of what I see as Dominant and submissive acts.

For example, I do not plan on giving another blow job and I will definitely not allow my (male) sub to cum on my body. (My hand, okay, but that’s where I draw the line.) I gave many blow jobs as a sub, not because I enjoyed them, but because I enjoyed pleasing him, which made it an act of submission. It was humiliating when he came on my body or face. Therefore, I cannot picture myself doing either as a Domme. However!, my vagina and I are totally okay with sticking my cock down his throat and having him cum on himself.

I also still want a group of three, except now I want two subs instead of being the bottom sub.

My opinions about punishment, chores, service, etc., have stayed the same. Although they might have evolved a little.

I want to treat my sub the way I wanted to be treated. Cruelly, like a thing… because I love them.

I expect the same things of my sub as I expected of myself as a sub — to obey and be pleasing.

I could go on and on.

It’s kinda neat how things have turned out.


The Lure of Chastity

Orgasm control and denial are great on their own, but I see more opportunities for enjoyment with chastity.

Since control reaches me on such a deep level, the control factor alone is enough to convince me it is a good idea. If I lock it up and keep the key, even though his penis is attached to his body, it would be mine. He could not, without a doubt, touch his penis in a pleasurable way unless I release him. He could not orgasm without me. Hell, he couldn’t even get fully erect without me. It also takes away his choice (which I happen to know does wonders for the submissive mind), making him more pliable to my will. And if that’s not control, I don’t know what is.

So, if I’m fully in control of what happens or doesn’t happen to his penis, I’m bound to be a pretty important person in his life (this is his “manhood” we’re talking about). If he isn’t pleasing to me, he doesn’t even have a chance at getting what he wants. I think it’s safe to assume this would encourage him to put greater effort into making sure I am happy. This aspect would make me feel special.

I can also use it to be mean. I think it would be great fun to put him in situations that turn him on, just to watch the expression on his face when his penis is straining against the cage. I would definitely enjoy having him serve myself and another female Dominant while in chaste. I could threaten to never let him out because I like him locked up so much…I can always use a dildo when I am in need. Chastity belt = never ending fun.

This little device helps create an overall feeling that is very appealing to me. It helps defines status, adds to the dynamic, gives me control, and turns me on… Yep, chastity is a must.


For the most part, I haven’t ever been able to really get into porn. Don’t get me wrong, porn has its appeal (boobs are always nice to look at), however I found that written stories had a more lasting impression.

I think vanilla porn is either comical or boring. (Yes, the house is on fire, but, Mr. Fireman, will you fuck me now?) Aside from horrible plots and exaggerated sounds, which is only good for a laugh, it is a waste of my time.

When I was a sub, BDSM porn did not get my juices flowing enough to keep me watching. Even though it was exciting, I cringed through most of it. There was no reason behind the action, so it lost a lot of my interest.

Recently have been making a point to watch more videos, specifically Femdom, and, I’m happy to say, my vagina and I have found it to be enjoyable in ways I didn’t expect. For example, there are things going on in these videos that I would not do and instead of being turned off by them, they actually have potential to do the opposite. To think I will never again put my mouth on a penis, is exciting. Not only is the act unreasonable (because giving blow jobs gives me no pleasure whatsoever), but taking that away from my sub is just too damn good to pass up (because I know how much pleasure it would give him). So, every time I see a Dominant giving a blow job I can’t help but get a little turned on because I know I’ll never have to do that again. 

There is one video that keeps popping into my head, and not because it’s one of those that leaves me wishing I could unsee it, but because it surprised me in a good way. There were two female subs and a Domme (off to a great start!). One sub was tied to a chair and, by going off the mascara running down her face, she had already endured some unpleasant things. The other sub was being instructed by the Domme when to turn on a electro device (that was connect to the sub in the chair) and what level to set it at. So, they start doing their thing… the Domme was right up next to the girl in the chair with a wonderful smile on her face and the sub was nodding her head, answering questions, and crying. Every so often the Domme would slightly nod, cueing to turn on the device, and the sub would scream out in pain.

This is a perfect example of a video I would not have liked to watch as a sub (even if I wouldn’t have minded to be used in a similar way), yet now… the expressions on the sub’s face, the way her eyes looked, and how she screamed out… it was fucking hot. Her face was messy, she was scared and determined, and so beautiful (and not just because of her features). She accepted the pain for the enjoyment of others. She was willing prey and the Domme was eating it up. 

And, clearly, it did something for me, too. 

Why I Won’t Submit Again

I remember the wonderful parts of submission — what it felt like to lose myself inside another, floaty freedom that grounded my soul, a collar around my neck, the feeling of life pumping through my veins. 

Oh yes, I remember. 

So why not again? Why not ever? 

The simple explanation is, I don’t want to, but that doesn’t make for a very interesting post, does it? 

When my husband and I switched it didnt take that long for me to realize I would never be able to trust him with my submission again, which probably plays a part in how I feel about it today. I learned that I couldn’t trust the man I had been with for 16 years, and if I couldn’t trust him, who can I trust (with my submission)? But, what if I did happen upon someone I could trust? I mean, crazier things have happened. 

The thing is, I can’t think of one good reason why I should submit. 

Why would I kneel, when I can stand, or sit, or lay in my comfy bed? Why would I let someone hurt me, when someone would hurt for me? Why in the hell would I wash dishes or clean toilets if I don’t have to? Why give up power, when I can have more?

When I was a sub, I didn’t think I would enjoy those other options. Hell, they weren’t even options at that point. Now, however, I know, and I no longer see what benefits submission has for me. 

I’ve also noticed that my brokenness doesn’t effect me in the same way. I guess you could say that I am mentally and sexually healthier. I am stronger this way. I am worth more this way. 

I do not want to go back. Being selfish is just too fucking awesome to give up.

A Morning Fantasy

I woke up feeling refreshed. I moaned and stretched reaching my arms above my head and arching my back. The pillow top mattress conformed to me and the fur blanket moved over my naked body.
A grin spread across my face as I reached for my vibrator. I was already wet. I held the toy between my legs and ran my hand over the fur, feeling my body under it. I quietly moaned as I enjoyed the senual feelings. The pressure built and my moans grew louder until I cried out in pleasure. I kept going. One wasn’t near enough. The next two orgasms left me feeling somewhat satisfied, and I was ready for coffee, so I pulled the blanket around me, eased out of bed and stepped into my slippers.
I made my way to the other side of the bedroom and stopped at the dresser where I picked up my phone and began to check my emails. I took a couple steps and sat down on the chaise. Even though there was nothing of importance in my email and I really did need coffee, I took my time enjoying the few extra minutes. When I was done, I put the phone back on the dresser and picked up a key.
I walked to the side of the bed and paused to soak in the view. Up against the wall was the cage where my slave waited inside, on all fours, for me to let it out. I giggled. The pink bunny tail anal plug was very amusing. (It is something slave hates so, naturally, I use it often. I love how it still makes me smile after all this time.)
I put the key in the lock and, before I twisted, I noticed that slave rocked forward a little bit and I assumed it was eager to be let out.
I pulled the key out.
“I just remembered that I need to tell Annie I will be at her party. I should do that right now before I forget.”
Of course I could have waited, but that would not have been as fun.
I walked back over to my phone and took my time typing the message and returning to the cage.
“Lovely morning, isn’t it, slave?” I asked while I started to unlock the door on the cage. “Did you sleep well?”
“No, Mistress. I…”
I interrupted slave with a laugh. “Aww, how sweet, you actually think I care.” I grinned and shook my head. “That’s 15 swats for being selfish. Now, get out and start the coffee, then you may use the bathroom.”
Slave crawled out and kissed my feet, then said, “Thank you, Mistress, for the lovely evening and morning.”
I patted the fur plug and said, “Go. I need coffee.”
I laughed as slave crawled out of the room. That bunny tail was just too perfect.

Clear and Continuous D/s

While I was reading a few articles that B sent me a couple days ago I started reflecting on and comparing my submission and Dominance, and how they clashed with what my husband wanted/expected.

Even though I am now on the left side of the slash, I still want my D/s dynamic to work the same way. The difference is that instead of being the one who does the dishes, I’m the one sitting comfortably on the couch doing whatever it is I want to do, while I relish knowing that someone else is doing the dishes.

And, if I wanted to, I could call them to me, just because I need a foot rest (because, you know, reasons).

And then I could punish them for not finishing the dishes.

*happy sigh* That would be the life.

But I digress…

For my husband, D/s was not ongoing – it had a beginning and an end-, while for me, it was never ending. I didn’t understand it at the time because, to me, that just isn’t how it works. It is not something I can turn off. It actually hurts to be equal, even now.

While some sides of D/s are fantasy, I needed it to feel real, and for it to feel real (to me) it has to be continuous. I didn’t need D/s to be maintained at certain level, I just needed it to be active. In a committed, emotionally involved relationship, I expect a power exchange, all the time.

That would feel real.

I picture a life where D/s is like the wind. Sometimes it barely blows, sometimes it is a gentle breeze, and sometimes it is fierce, but it is always fucking there.

I picture having a toy that I can beat and use until I’m done having my fun. I can picture that toy turning into a servant who cleans, cooks, and pleasures me. I can picture that servant turning into lover who I care for and respect. And I can picture fluctuating between those levels as needed.

But there is always a definite slash and I am always on the left.